On attaining1 the age of eight, or thereabout, children fly away from the Gardens, and never come back. When next you meet them they are ladies and gentlemen holding up their umbrellas to hail a hansom.
where the girls go to I know not, to some private place, I suppose, to put up their hair, but the boys have gone to Pilkington’s. He is a man with a cane2. You may not go to Pilkington’s in knickerbockers made by your mother, make she ever so artfully. They must be real knickerbockers. It is his stern rule. Hence the fearful fascination3 of Pilkington’s.
He may be conceived as one who, baiting his hook with real knickerbockers, fishes all day in the Gardens, with are to him but a pool swarming4 with small fry.
Abhorred5 shade! I know not what manner of man thou art in the flesh, sir, but figure thee bearded and blackavised, and of a lean tortuous6 habit of body, that moves ever with a swish. Every morning, I swear, thou readest avidly7 the list of male births in thy paper, and then are thy hands rubbed gloatingly the one upon the other. ’Tis fear of thee and they gown and they cane, which are part of thee, that makes the fairies to hide by day; wert thou to linger but once among their haunts between the hours of Lock-out and Open Gates there would be left not one single gentle place in all the Gardens. The little people would flit. How much wiser they than the small boys who swim glamoured to thy crafty8 hook. Thou devastator9 of the Gardens, I know thee, Pilkington.
I first heard of Pilkington from David, who had it from Oliver Bailey.
This Oliver Bailey was one of the most dashing figures in the Gardens, and without apparent effort was daily drawing nearer the completion of his seventh year at a time when David seemed unable to get beyond half-past five. I have to speak of him in the past tense, for gone is Oliver from the Gardens (gone to Pilkington’s), but he is still a name among us, and some lordly deeds are remembered of him, as that his father shaved twice a day. Oliver himself was all on that scale.
His not ignoble10 ambition seems always to have been to be wrecked11 upon an island, indeed I am told that he mentioned it insinuatingly13 in his prayers, and it was perhaps inevitable14 that a boy with such an outlook should fascinate David. I am proud, therefore, to be able to state on wood that it was Oliver himself who made the overture15.
On first hearing, from some satellite of Oliver’s, of Wrecked Islands, as they are called in the Gardens, David said wistfully that he supposed you needed to be very very good before you had any chance of being wrecked, and the remark was conveyed to Oliver, on whom it made an uncomfortable impression. For a time he tried to evade16 it, but ultimately David was presented to him and invited gloomily to say it again. The upshot was that Oliver advertised the Gardens of his intention to be good until he was eight, and if he had not been wrecked by that time, to be as jolly bad as a boy could be. He was naturally so bad that at the Kindergarten Academy, when the mistress ordered whoever had done the last naughty deed to step forward, Oliver’s custom had been to step forward, not necessarily because he had done it, but because he presumed he very likely had.
The friendship of the two dated from this time, and at first I thought Oliver discovered generosity17 in hasting to David as to an equal; he also walked hand in hand with him, and even reproved him for delinquencies like a loving elder brother. But ’tis a gray world even in the Gardens, for I found that a new arrangement had been made which reduced Oliver to life-size. He had wearied of well-doing, and passed it on, so to speak, to his friend. In other words, on David now devolved the task of being good until he was eight, while Oliver clung to him so closely that the one could not be wrecked without the other.
When this was made known to me it was already too late to break the spell of Oliver, David was top-heavy with pride in him, and, faith, I began to find myself very much in the cold, for Oliver was frankly18 bored by me and even David seemed to think it would be convenient if I went and sat with Irene. Am I affecting to laugh? I was really distressed19 and lonely, and rather bitter; and how humble20 I became. Sometimes when the dog Joey is unable, by frisking, to induce Porthos to play with him, he stands on his hind21 legs and begs it of him, and I do believe I was sometimes as humble as Joey. Then David would insist on my being suffered to join them, but it was plain that he had no real occasion for me.
It was an unheroic trouble, and I despised myself. For years I had been fighting Mary for David, and had not wholly failed though she was advantaged by the accident of relationship; was I now to be knocked out so easily by a seven-year-old? I reconsidered my weapons, and I fought Oliver and beat him. Figure to yourself those two boys become as faithful to me as my coat-tails.
With wrecked islands I did it. I began in the most unpretentious way by telling them a story which might last an hour, and favoured by many an unexpected wind it lasted eighteen months. It started as the wreck12 of the simple Swiss family who looked up and saw the butter-tree, but soon a glorious inspiration of the night turned it into the wreck of David A---- and Oliver Bailey. At first it was what they were to do when they were wrecked, but imperceptibly it became what they had done. I spent much of my time staring reflectively at the titles of the boys’ stories in the booksellers’ windows, whistling for a breeze, so to say, for I found that the titles were even more helpful than the stories. We wrecked everybody of note, including all Homer’s most taking characters and the hero of Paradise Lost. But we suffered them not to land. We stripped them of what we wanted and left them to wander the high seas naked of adventure. And all this was merely the beginning.
By this time I had been cast upon the island. It was not my own proposal, but David knew my wishes, and he made it all right for me with Oliver. They found me among the breakers with a large dog, which had kept me afloat throughout that terrible night. I was the sole survivor22 of the ill-fated Anna Pink. So exhausted23 was I that they had to carry me to their hut, and great was my gratitude24 when, on opening my eyes, I found myself in that romantic edifice25 instead of in Davy Jones’s locker26. As we walked in the Gardens I told them of the hut they had built; and they were inflated27 but not surprised. On the other hand, they looked for surprise from me.
“Did we tell you about the turtle we turned on its back?” asked Oliver, reverting28 to deeds of theirs of which I had previously29 told them.
“You did.”
“Who turned it?” demanded David, not as one who needed information but after the manner of a schoolmaster.
“It was turned,” I said, “by David A----, the younger of the two youths.”
“Who made the monkeys fling cocoa-nuts at him?” asked the older of the two youths.
“Oliver Bailey,” I replied.
“Was it Oliver,” asked David sharply, “that found the cocoa-nut tree first?”
“On the contrary,” I answered, “it was first observed by David, who immediately climbed it, remarking, ‘This is certainly the Cocos nucifera, for, see, dear Oliver, the slender columns supporting the crown of leaves which fall with a grace that no art can imitate.’”
“That’s what I said,” remarked David with a wave of his hand.
“I said things like that, too,” Oliver insisted.
“No, you didn’t then,” said David.
“Yes, I did so.”
“No, you didn’t so.”
“Shut up.”
“Well, then, let’s hear one you said.”
Oliver looked appealingly at me. “The following,” I announced, “is one that Oliver said: ‘Truly, dear comrade, though the perils30 of these happenings are great, and our privations calculated to break the stoutest31 heart, yet to be rewarded by such fair sights I would endure still greater trials and still rejoice even as the bird on yonder bough32.’”
“That’s one I said!” crowed Oliver.
“I shot the bird,” said David instantly.
“What bird?”
“The yonder bird.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Did I not shoot the bird?”
“It was David who shot the bird,” I said, “but it was Oliver who saw by its multi-coloured plumage that it was one of the Psittacid?, an excellent substitute for partridge.”
“You didn’t see that,” said Oliver, rather swollen33.
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw that.”
“What?”
“You shut up.”
“David shot it,” I summed up, “and Oliver knew its name, but I ate it. Do you remember how hungry I was?”
“Rather!” said David.
“I cooked it,” said Oliver.
“It was served up on toast,” I reminded them.
“I toasted it,” said David.
“Toast from the bread-fruit-tree,” I said, “which (as you both remarked simultaneously) bears two and sometimes three crops in a year, and also affords a serviceable gum for the pitching of canoes.”
“I pitched mine best,” said Oliver.
“I pitched mine farthest,” said David.
“And when I had finished my repast,” said I, “you amazed me by handing me a cigar from the tobacco-plant.”
“I handed it,” said Oliver.
“I snicked off the end,” said David.
“And then,” said I, “you gave me a light.”
“Which of us?” they cried together.
“Both of you,” I said. “Never shall I forget my amazement34 when I saw you get that light by rubbing two sticks together.”
At this they waggled their heads. “You couldn’t have done it!” said David.
“No, David,” I admitted, “I can’t do it, but of course I know that all wrecked boys do it quite easily. Show me how you did it.”
But after consulting apart they agreed not to show me. I was not shown everything.
David was now firmly convinced that he had once been wrecked on an island, while Oliver passed his days in dubiety. They used to argue it out together and among their friends. As I unfolded the story Oliver listened with an open knife in his hand, and David, who was not allowed to have a knife, wore a pirate-string round his waist. Irene in her usual interfering35 way objected to this bauble36 and dropped disparaging37 remarks about wrecked islands which were little to her credit. I was for defying her, but David, who had the knack38 of women, knew a better way; he craftily39 proposed that we “should let Irene in,” in short, should wreck her, and though I objected, she proved a great success and recognised the Yucca filamentosa by its long narrow leaves the very day she joined us. Thereafter we had no more scoffing40 from Irene, who listened to the story as hotly as anybody.
This encouraged us in time to let in David’s father and mother, though they never knew it unless he told them, as I have no doubt he did. They were admitted primarily to gratify David, who was very soft-hearted and knew that while he was on the island they must be missing him very much at home. So we let them in, and there was no part of the story he liked better than that which told of the joyous41 meeting. We were in need of another woman at any rate, some one more romantic-looking than Irene, and Mary, I can assure her now, had a busy time of it. She was constantly being carried off by cannibals, and David became quite an adept42 at plucking her from the very pot itself and springing from cliff to cliff with his lovely burden in his arms. There was seldom a Saturday in which David did not kill his man.
I shall now provide the proof that David believed it all to be as true as true. It was told me by Oliver, who had it from our hero himself. I had described to them how the savages43 had tattooed44 David’s father, and Oliver informed me that one night shortly afterward45 David was discovered softly lifting the blankets off his father’s legs to have a look at the birds and reptiles46 etched thereon.
Thus many months passed with no word of Pilkington, and you may be asking where he was all this time. Ah, my friends, he was very busy fishing, though I was as yet unaware47 of his existence. Most suddenly I heard the whirr of his hated reel, as he struck a fish. I remember that grim day with painful vividness; it was a wet day, indeed I think it has rained for me more or less ever since. As soon as they joined me I saw from the manner of the two boys that they had something to communicate. Oliver nudged David and retired48 a few paces, whereupon David said to me solemnly,
“Oliver is going to Pilkington’s.”
I immediately perceived that it was some school, but so little did I understand the import of David’s remark that I called out jocularly, “I hope he won’t swish you, Oliver.”
Evidently I had pained both of them, for they exchanged glances and retired for consultation49 behind a tree, whence David returned to say with emphasis,
“He has two jackets and two shirts and two knickerbockers, all real ones.”
“Well done, Oliver!” said I, but it was the wrong thing again, and once more they disappeared behind the tree. Evidently they decided50 that the time for plain speaking was come, for now David announced bluntly:
“He wants you not to call him Oliver any longer.”
“What shall I call him?”
“Bailey.”
“But why?”
“He’s going to Pilkington’s. And he can’t play with us any more after next Saturday.”
“Why not?”
“He’s going to Pilkington’s.”
So now I knew the law about the thing, and we moved on together, Oliver stretching himself consciously, and methought that even David walked with a sedater51 air.
“David,” said I, with a sinking, “are you going to Pilkington’s?”
“When I am eight,” he replied.
“And sha’n’t I call you David then, and won’t you play with me in the Gardens any more?”
He looked at Bailey, and Bailey signalled him to be firm.
“Oh, no,” said David cheerily.
Thus sharply did I learn how much longer I was to have of him. Strange that a little boy can give so much pain. I dropped his hand and walked on in silence, and presently I did my most churlish to hurt him by ending the story abruptly52 in a very cruel way. “Ten years have elapsed,” said I, “since I last spoke53, and our two heroes, now gay young men, are revisiting the wrecked island of their childhood. ‘Did we wreck ourselves,’ said one, ‘or was there some one to help us?’ And the other, who was the younger, replied, ‘I think there was some one to help us, a man with a dog. I think he used to tell me stories in the Kensington Gardens, but I forget all about him; I don’t remember even his name.’”
This tame ending bored Bailey, and he drifted away from us, but David still walked by my side, and he was grown so quiet that I knew a storm was brewing54. Suddenly he flashed lightning on me. “It’s not true,” he cried, “it’s a lie!” He gripped my hand. “I sha’n’t never forget you, father.”
Strange that a little boy can give so much pleasure.
Yet I could go on. “You will forget, David, but there was once a boy who would have remembered.”
“Timothy?” said he at once. He thinks Timothy was a real boy, and is very jealous of him. He turned his back to me, and stood alone and wept passionately55, while I waited for him. You may be sure I begged his pardon, and made it all right with him, and had him laughing and happy again before I let him go. But nevertheless what I said was true. David is not my boy, and he will forget. But Timothy would have remembered.
收听单词发音 |
1
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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abhorred
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| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
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tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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avidly
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| adv.渴望地，热心地 | |
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crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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devastator
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| n.蹂躏者，破坏者 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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insinuatingly
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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overture
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| n.前奏曲、序曲，提议，提案，初步交涉 | |
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evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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survivor
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| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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28
reverting
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| 恢复( revert的现在分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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stoutest
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| 粗壮的( stout的最高级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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35
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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bauble
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| n.美观而无价值的饰物 | |
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disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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38
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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craftily
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| 狡猾地，狡诈地 | |
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40
scoffing
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| n. 嘲笑, 笑柄, 愚弄 v. 嘲笑, 嘲弄, 愚弄, 狼吞虎咽 | |
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41
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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44
tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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reptiles
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| n.爬行动物，爬虫( reptile的名词复数 ) | |
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47
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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49
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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50
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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51
sedater
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| adj.镇定的( sedate的比较级 )；泰然的；不慌不忙的（常用于名词前）；宁静的 | |
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52
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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53
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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54
brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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